A/N: Ahh, Anna/Bates. How could you not adore them? I love that the show gave us a glimpse of their first night together, but this is my tribute, the prequel to it. Enjoy and review!
Words: 1154
Characters: Anna, Mr. Bates
Time: Right before their wedding night
Genre: Romance
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Julian Fellowes, not me.
Bare feet patter noiselessly against the richly carpeted floor. A silken dressing grown sweeps about her legs in graceful waves. Lady Mary lent it her, just like the room itself, glorious and soft and far too fine for her like. Anna cannot stop her pacing. She passes the gilded mirror over and over, stealing glances at her reflection in the pale candlelight.
The face that peeks back at her each time is still that of a blushing bride. Tomorrow, it will truly be that of a wife. Of Mrs. Bates. Anna Bates.
The bride blushes all the more.
She whips around at the first hint of his footsteps outside, closes her eyes at the click that means the knob is being turned, then holds her breath when the hinges squeak. Her heart skips a beat, her eyes open, and he is there.
"Lady Mary was kind to give us this beautiful room," he says, though he hasn't looked anywhere except at her.
"She was. She told me to make sure you got the right one. I'm glad you did."
Mr. Bates wears his sleepclothes under a long robe, a dark maroon color that suits him. Slow steps assisted by his cane bring him toward her. Anna doesn't tell her lips to do it, but they smile, broadly, changing the course of the tears on her cheeks.
"Why do you cry?" he says, touching her face with a gentle hand.
"Because I'm happy," she manages. "Because I am happier now than I could ever have thought I'd be. Ever."
His palm still cups her cheek. She stretches to kiss him, balancing on the balls of her feet, and immediately he steadies with an arm around her waist. But before their lips meet, he speaks in a rush.
"Anna, I must ask you, one last time… You know what may happen - "
"No. I'll not have any talk of such things, Mr. Bates, not tonight."
She doesn't drop her gaze. She means it, and he had better know it; she will not put up with any more sacrifices in the name of her honor, or her safety, or – or –
She forgets what else. Because his lips are brushing hers, and this time they know no one will interrupt, and there is nowhere for them to rush off to, no job that must get done, no separation that is soon to follow. There is only the moment, bodies close, carefree lovers all caught up in the thoughtless joy of being together.
He pulls away for a moment to set aside his cane, leaning it against the bedside table. Then he holds her properly, lifting her off the ground, making her giggle and kiss him when their faces are level. Her hair is falling messily out of its loose evening braid, and she shivers when Mr. Bates brushes it away from her lips, her cheeks, her neck.
Carefully he sets her down on the bed. Its lush blankets sink beneath her, softer than anything she has ever felt, save for his tenderness. He continues to run his hand over her hair, lightly, as if it were as precious as spun gold. "Anna…" he breathes.
"What is it?" She touches his arm, searches his eyes, drawn to him, her heart so full of love it may well burst.
"Sometimes I cannot believe you are really here. In my arms. I am not the youngest, nor fittest of men – "
She puts her fingers to his lips. "But you are the kindest, and handsomest, and gentlest man I have ever or will ever know. I am here, Mr. Bates, and I love you, and no one else, I never will."
His smile sparkles in his eyes, those eyes that she loves so much, that make her legs go so trembly that if she hadn't been sitting down already, she knows she would have fallen. He takes her hand in his, kisses it, and sits close beside her.
"I love you, Anna. My wife."
"I like the sound of that."
"I'm glad."
She barely feels herself leaning backward, her head sinking into a down pillow. All she knows is his touch, his warmth. A moment of terror grips her, freezes her, as she wonders what if, what if I lose him – I would never be happy again, not after knowing this, all I could ever have dreamed of -
As if he can read her mind, Mr. Bates places a hand over her racing heart, a hand that she grips with both of hers. "I am yours, Anna. Tonight and always."
Her fear vanishes. She trusts him, after all. She trusts him and she trusts herself, and if he says they are to last forever, and she knows it in her heart, then they will, there's no question. She almost cries again, because it's too much happiness for one woman alone to hold inside, the kind of happiness that soaks all through you, warm and alive.
But when he slides Lady Mary's silk dressing gown from her shoulders, when she unties his robe and shabbily unbuttons his shirt (her fingers are quivering from both bliss and nerves, and he teases her, what would the others say, if they knew a lady's maid can't even manage buttons, and she laughs, touched and warmed and so in love, all at once), she knows she's not holding that happiness all on her own. They share in it, since it's only because they're both there that it exists at all.
Wrapped up in sheets and blankets and each other, they move slowly, in no rush to reach the end of this perfect moment. They'd had so little go right for them, but this night does, and even after they both relax, facing each other, curling into each other's warmth, Anna doesn't want to sleep, doesn't want to do anything but keep holding him, looking at him, feeling him next to her.
"You are perfect," he says, and she realized she'd forgotten something else that was all she wanted to do: listen to him, talk with him, be with him.
"Thank you, Mr. Bates," she says with a blush of a smile, teasing him back as she bobs her head like a proper maid might do to a valet's compliment.
"You must learn to call me John sometime, you know."
"I know, Mr. Bates."
He laughs and kisses her lips, still sending shivers down her spine, but he rubs them away with his gentle hand. "I love you, Anna."
"And I love you… John." She snuggles closer to him, and obligingly he wraps his arm more tightly around her bare shoulders, bringing their bodies as close as they can get. She rests her head against his chest, closing her eyes, content now to listen to his heartbeat and feel the steady brush of his hand against her skin. "Tonight and always."